CHAPTER 13
Athair!”
His brother’s horrified cry rang in his ears, and it took all his strength to disarm the opponent in front of him with
another blow of his mighty broadsword. The enemy sword clanked to the ground, and the opposing warrior faltered. Payton
McLean took advantage of the moment and held his blade to his opponent’s throat. This fight was not over yet, but he
had to find out what had happened to his brother.
A quick glance over his shoulder, and his blood froze. It wasn’t his brother Kyle, but his father, Fingal, who was
lying badly wounded on the ground.
Payton turned to the man in rags he had just beaten. He pressed his blade against the other man’s skin, causing a thick
drop of blood to ooze from the cut.
“Get out! Don’t ever come back here! Make sure you ride fast, because if he dies, I will come and find you! And
you’ll regret the day that you came to steal our cattle.”
Payton pulled back his blade, whirled it around his head in a wide arc, and delivered a hard blow to the man’s head
with the handle of his sword. The man first staggered away and then broke into a run.
With one move of his free hand, Payton motioned for his little brother to do the same with the two opponents he’d been
keeping in check. Kyle stepped aside, and the two men hurried on after their pal. A pile of weapons they had taken off
the bloodthirsty trio lay at Kyle’s feet: a broadsword, a sgian dhu, an axe—and an archery bow.
The latter was the reason Fingal McLean was lying wounded on the ground. The shaft of an arrow protruded from his chest,
blood trickling from the wound. The two brothers hurried over to him as soon as the cattle thieves were out of sight.
With grave concern, they knelt beside their father, and Kyle pushed the graying hair from the fallen man’s face.
“Father, we’re right here,” Kyle whispered.
Fingal’s eyes darted back and forth, unable to focus, and then closed.
“Stay awake! Ifrinn! Look at me!” Kyle called, slapping him across the cheek. Fingal’s eyelids fluttered open, and a
painful moan escaped his lips. But in the next moment, he lost consciousness again.
Payton quickly cut away his father’s shirt and now stared, terrified, at the old man’s chest.
“The arrow is in deep, but it’s not bleeding much. Pulling the arrow out might hurt him even more. What should we do?
” he asked.
Kyle, whose eyes were narrow from hiding his tears, shook his head in resignation.
“I don’t know. We need help, and quickly!”
“We have to take him away from here. It’s too dangerous to stay. It’s probably best if we take him to McRae’s
cottage.”
Kyle nodded. His hands shook as he gently wiped the beads of sweat from Fingal’s forehead. “Stay with us, Father, stay
with us,” he implored.
“Give me a hand. I will break off the arrow so that we can at least provisionally bandage the wound before carrying him
away,” Payton said.
Kyle gritted his teeth and grabbed the arrow just above the entry wound. Payton tried to break off the shaft directly
above it, but without pushing it in deeper or tearing open the wound any further. The arrow broke with a quiet snap.
Both brothers exhaled with relief. The arrow shaft now only protruded about two fingers’ breadth from their father’s
chest. Payton cut off a wide strip of cloth from his plaid, and together they managed to wrap it around Fingal’s chest
like a bandage.
To put Fingal up on a horse in such poor condition proved a real challenge, but they eventually succeeded in lifting him
into the saddle in front of Kyle. Kyle was only sixteen, but it was clear from his strong build that he would grow into
a man of great strength and stature, just like his father and brothers. Still, he struggled to hold up and support the
wounded man in front of him.
“Go now. McRae will help you carry him into the cottage. Lay him down and make sure he drinks a little water regularly.
I will fetch the others, and then we will take Father home.”
Kyle nodded and held on tight to the reins so that his horse remained still. He was worried that any small movement
might drive the arrow deeper into his father’s chest.
“Payton?” he whispered in a shaky voice. “Payton, wha…what if he dies?” This time he couldn’t hide his tears any
longer.
Payton looked Kyle firmly in the eye, and pledged: “He won’t die! Not at the hand of a petty cattle thief, that much I
swear! And now go—don’t waste any more time. We will meet up at McRae’s.”
Kyle’s horse broke into a trot, then into a gallop, and Payton silently begged forgiveness for having made a promise
that he himself found hard to believe. He lifted the weapons from the ground and looked over at the handful of sheep
standing and bleating quietly with their front legs tied. He had originally planned to return them to McRae, but now
they would have to find their own way back. Quickly, he cut through their ties and pushed them in the right direction.
Next, he set off in the direction of where all three territories met: to the north, the sweeping plains of the Camerons;
to the east, his father’s land—the land of the McLeans; and to the west, the rolling hills and white shores of the
Stuart clan. The other two parties would be waiting for them there, likewise searching the borderlands for bandits and
cattle thieves.
The patrols were born out of necessity to fight the raids and thefts that had been taking place over these past few
months. Cathal Stuart had asked the McLeans for help. Fingal was unable to deny this request because they were allies—
even though his clan hadn’t yet been affected by the attacks.
Still, the safety and security of the borderlands was in everyone’s interest. If they didn’t want war between the
clans, then the raids had to be stopped. The wounds that long ago were torn by an old blood feud between the Stuarts and
the Camerons would never heal, with or without stolen cattle. And Cathal was not yet clan chief, not by a long stretch.
He urgently needed to prove that he was able to lead his men into battle, that he was capable of protecting his clan
and, if need be, to defend it.
The recent attacks had caused a rise in the voices of those who’d imagined men other than Cathal should be clan leader.
After all, there were alternatives should Cathal not hold up well. The old laird had legitimized his two bastard sons—a
disservice to Cathal, his lawful son and heir.
Payton urged on his horse and tore across the green hills in a full gallop. He saw the majestic mountains of the
Highlands rise to his right, and he prayed that his father would survive the journey there. He would take him to
Burragh. He would not allow Fingal to die for Cathal’s cause.
He bent closer over his horse’s mane to help it fly ever faster across the plains, driven by the desperate hope that he
would find his father still alive upon his return.
Payton headed toward the men, exhausted from his long trip. He noticed their questioning eyes as they searched the wide
plains behind him for any companions. With his horse still moving, he leapt from the saddle and threw his reins to
Kenzie, the youngest member of the Stuart clan. Everyone guessed right away what must have happened. The men came
running, calling for Sean and Blair.
“Payton, what is it? Where is everyone?” Duncan asked upon reaching him.
“Father is injured. I came as fast as I could. We have to take him home, but Kyle and I can’t do it on our own. We
need a cart!” Payton called without stopping for courtesies.
In the meantime, his brothers had also reached his side. They exchanged worried looks.
“What happened? Tell us everything,” Blair demanded. Blair, Fingal’s oldest son, had a voice that was used to giving
orders. One day he would become laird of the McLeans, and he had been preparing to assume that command all of his life.
This often meant that he adopted the opinion of his best friend, Cathal Stuart. The Stuarts and McLeans had been friends
and allies for a long time.
Payton looked into many a shocked face. These men were either family members or longtime friends and allies. Every
single one of them was close to Fingal, and the worry about his health and well-being was clearly written on their
faces.
“We passed by McRae’s at dawn, and he told us that some of his sheep had been stolen during the night. We asked how he
knew that his sheep weren’t just having a snooze out on the heath, but then he showed us his best herd dog—dead from
an arrow to the heart. Father became angry and promised the shepherd that we would find and bring back his sheep. Not
long after, we found the thieves’ tracks and confronted them a few miles farther up. They had all the missing sheep. I
was fighting one of the thieves. I don’t know what was going on behind me, but…”
The shame about his failure to help—a terrible shortcoming—made him pause.
“When I turned around, Father was lying on the ground with an arrow through his chest. I had to let the thieves go
because I could not keep three men in check and help Father at the same time.”
“How is Father? Is he well?” Sean pressed.
“No. When I left him, he was no longer conscious. Kyle is taking him to McRae’s cottage. We have to get him to Castle
Burragh quickly so Nanny MacMillan can take care of him.”
The brothers’ trust in the old wet nurse’s healing powers knew no bounds. She had been part of the family ever since
they were born. They had overcome many of their wounds and illnesses thanks to her skills as a healer. Even strong,
grown men followed the wise woman’s advice when it came to any kind of injury. If anyone could save Fingal’s life, it
would be Nanny MacMillan.
Without hesitation, Blair began dispatching orders.
“Very well. Let’s not waste any time. Cathal, we will ride with Payton. Father needs us now.”
Cathal nodded and looked into the ranks of men still gathered around them. There was his youngest brother, Kenzie, still
holding the reins of Payton’s horse. There were Dougal and Duncan, and Ross, their half brother. There was also
Alasdair Buchanan, a man he could always rely on to do some dirty work. He’d be able to manage without Blair, Sean, and
Payton McLean when it came to patrolling the outer sector of the borderlands.
“Mo charaid, I will also send Ross with you,” Cathal agreed. “Payton mentioned you needed an oxcart, and it can’t
hurt to have an extra set of hands.”
Relief came over Payton, because for a brief moment he was able to allow someone else to take charge. He was certain
that Blair would do everything in his power to ensure their father’s speedy recovery.
Ross looked up with a start before glancing at the tree where the girl was still curled up in a ball, quietly awaiting
the fate his brothers intended for her.
“Why don’t you give them Kenzie,” he suggested sheepishly. “I can be of better service here with the dogs. And
besides, one of us has to watch the prisoner while you’re taking care of more important things.”
Cathal’s face darkened, and his voice took on a threatening tone.
“You will go with them! Don’t ever dare question my orders again and recommend my brother for a peasant’s work, you
illegitimate bastard son! As for the prisoner…” He now directed his anger toward Duncan and Dougal. “You know full
well how shaky the peace is between the Cameron clan and ours. Surely, it is not in our interest to abduct their women!
We will discuss this further once we’re back at Galthair. In the meantime, this woman will be under my protection.”
Ross was relieved. Yes, he was furious at being put in his place by the clan leader. But then again, he was used to
being yelled at. He had been treated this way all his life. In reality, he wasn’t the illegitimate son—Duncan and
Dougal were illegitimate. But the twin brothers bore the Stuart name, which was sufficient to make the questionable
circumstance of their conception irrelevant. At least, now, Cathal would ensure Samantha’s safety.
“But, Cathal, that girl has nothing to do with you!” Duncan disagreed vehemently.
“Fan sàmhach! I am the laird! My word is the law. Or did you forget that you swore an oath of blood?”
Duncan, pressed, stayed silent as Cathal continued. “Blair, you will take the woman with you. I have no use for
womenfolk here, but maybe she can help with Fingal. Women seem to be more skilled at that sort of thing.”
With his eyebrows raised provocatively, he awaited a reaction. But when Duncan nodded for Ross to pack his things and
fetch the prisoner, a satisfied smile crossed Cathal’s face.
In the meantime, Payton had turned away and put a bag of oats over his horse’s mouth. His mind was preoccupied with the
journey back. Having to wait for his brothers and everyone else made his patience wear thin. Annoyed, he turned around.